


Heaven's Work

by padasdfghjkl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 16:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padasdfghjkl/pseuds/padasdfghjkl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel were so close to having it all. The two angels had been together for longer than they can remember and lived a safe and happy life up in the clouds. Suddenly, all of it gets ripped away from them when Dean is sent down to Earth as a human. He loses all memories of Castiel, heaven, and being an angel. Castiel crosses paths with Dean several years later, and Dean doesn't have the slightest clue who he is. Every day after their second meeting, Castiel ignores Dean's needs of personal space. They share long gazes into each other's eyes as if they were the most beautiful of constellations. Castiel would stare, not daring to look away. Because maybe there's still something in Dean's golden green eyes that will flicker, and everything will come flooding back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Pray To God

         Castiel's thick black hair tossed about like a dozen gymnasts across his forehead. He constantly had his hands sweeping through to keep it tamed for the big meeting today. None of the angels knew for sure what the meeting was about, but rumors began flying around that God himself would be attending. If one thing was for sure, it was that Cas wasn't about to show up in the presence of his father looking like a bum. The walk there was rather lengthy, but Castiel could use the fresh air. His pace was steady and calm as he headed north on the clean sidewalks. 

         Aside from his appearance being disheveled, Castiel loved the wind. He could feel the breeze weaving in and out of his large feathered wings and his spine ached to lift off of the ground and fly. He would feel his weight lift up to let his body soar effortlessly through the pale blue sky. Embracing the clouds he dove through, feeling that sense of relief in his stomach, and looking around to see his brothers and sisters enjoying the exact same feeling. It was a wonderful thing to experience and Castiel couldn't imagine ever living without it. The clouds were his companions, and every time it rained, Castiel would sit with an angel named Dean in the highest place they could find and visualize all of their worries washing down below. It was their way of getting close with one another. Hardly any talking, just a comfortable presence to have beside one another. And Castiel didn't mind that quiet one bit. Plus, Dean always had looked very charming in the rain.

         Dean and Castiel had always been close, but Cas could feel some sort of bond that wasn't there before. A strong energy strung between their chests, drawing them into one another. A budding strength that hit Castiel hard. He wasn't quite sure if Dean noticed yet, for he was tougher than Cas. He might be too strong to notice the connection yet, or at least that was the conclusion Castiel had settled on after pondering everything for a good five hours. All of the other angels knew that Dean and Cas shared something. Whether it be a bond or an intimacy was a mystery, but the angels knew. They knew by the way Castiel would lean into Dean's strong arms wrapped around him like it was his own personal Heaven. They knew by the way Castiel wouldn't look away from those gorgeous green eyes you could mistake for gemstones. They knew by the way Castiel's fingertips would linger from touching Dean's wings like it was the single source of water in a hot desert. 

         Cas let out a dreamy sigh and picked up his pace, the Gathering House now in sight. He could practically feel Dean's presence already, and it only got stronger as he walked inside.

         The Gathering House was gigantic and white. It had several rows of pews that the community sat in, facing towards a large towards a podium. Behind that, were towering white columns that had been carved to place seats. Those seats were for the Thillers. The Thillers were the angels that delivered messages from God, resolved issues that went on in Heaven, and spoke at meetings like this. It was like God's own committee, for he had never presented himself in the House. To the side of the podium, there was a seat set up. It wasn't like a seat they set up for trials. It was big. Big and intimidating. 

         "Everybody, if you will please take a seat. The meeting will start in a few minutes." Stella, one of the angels that was on the meeting board, spoke cheerfully.

         "Cas!"

         Castiel looked up to his name and saw Dean waving over to him. Cas walked up through the aisle to the third pew from the front and smiled wide.

         "Hello, Dean." Cas greeted him and sat down. Dean set a light kiss on his forehead.

         "I thought you weren't going to show. I arrived around twenty minutes ago, and guess what."

         "What?"

        "Dad's going to attend the meeting today. I still haven't figured out why this meeting is happening and why it is so important that God has to show up, but I guess it's a good thing, right? Maybe he'll recruit some of us to stand by his side. Help make decisions. Something like that."

         Dean had a stupid smirk on his face, the kind he usually had plastered on when he was excited. Maybe it was a good thing God was coming. Cas didn't know. All he knew is that he had a wretched twist in his gut, but he smiled for Dean.

         "Yeah. Maybe you'll get chosen to be a guardian angel," Cas poked Dean at his side. 

         Dean scoffed and proceeded excitedly, "Yeah, right. Why would God want some sorry excuse of a son to be a guardian? If anyone is going to be chosen for the job, it's you."

         Castiel smiled and shook his head, taking some time to admire Dean in this lighting. A pale white light gave Dean's facial features a softer look, letting his soul peek through. Dean's soul was beautiful. Castiel had caught short glimpses of it before. Lots of emotion and kindness swelling within his vessel. Dean was a skyscraper standing tall and stiff, nothing to knock him down. Nothing to demolish his planted feet and broad shoulders. He could remember countless nights he and Dean would sit together and ramble about their passions and thoughts. Castiel had learned much about Dean's psyche from his sleepy states. Dean got very philosophical during the late hours of the night. He was very in touch with the imaginative sector of his brain and let loose all of his ideas and emotions. Dean loved observing Earth. He loved the diffident cultures and languages. He found it particularly fascinating that thousands of languages correspond to one another. There was also a part of Dean that loved the arts. Movies, books, paintings, jewelry, and music. A big fan of music. But Dean also thought about tragedy. Innocent casualties on Earth resulting from war, hatred, and lack of resources. He thought about how cruel it was that god could allow such things to happen to children and hard working men. How could Father let young women have their innocence stolen from them like pocketbooks? How could Father allow good people to contract horrible diseases? Dean never questioned God out loud, but Cas knew it was what he wanted to say. Dean only asked why it happened, not why God didn't stop it.

         Cas sighed and tried to clear his mind, turning to Dean to ask, "Where did you wander off to this morning? I couldn't seem to find you."

         "Oh, just to the east side. There are a lot of nice trees over there. I like the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and seeing the sun shine between the branches. If you go early enough, you can watch the sky shed its dark skin from the night and melt into the tangerines and pinks. " Dean smiled bashfully and looked away. "It's pretty stupid."

         Castiel smiled when Dean's eyes lit up. "Not at all. At least I don't believe it is. However, I don't believe that the green trees are as breathtaking as your irises."

         Dean bit his lip and smiled."Thank you. Have you ever seen the sun rise?"

         "I've seen it rise plenty."

         Dean shook his head and scooted closer, turning more to the dark haired angel. "No, I mean really seen it rise. Right at dawn when the stars fade into the distance and the moon slowly droops behind the hills. The dark skies merge into a brighter color, then turning into day. It's all so slow and pretty. Each component moving as one." Dean paused a minute and looked into Cas's eyes deeply. "The morning sky, after the sun has lifted high enough, creates a perfect shade of blue. Your eyes are the morning sky."

         Castiel smiled wider and knew his mouth would ache later. "That is very kind of you Dean."

         "It's true. You're my morning."

         "Then you can be my night."

         A soft shade of pink stuck onto Dean's cheeks as he grinned. Castiel felt the need to breathe heavily, his heart pounding faster than normal and his eyes constantly flickering between Dean's freckles across his nose. Then Cas's blue eyes traveled down to Dean's mouth. He swallowed thickly and watched Dean's tongue slip between his lips quickly to wet them. Castiel took this as a warning to look away, and adjusted his trench coat.  Castiel kept his head down and blushed. Dean took the opportunity to get comfortable, outstretching his arm on the back of the pew as Stella walked back up to the petite podium.

       "Angels around me, it is with great honor that I confirm the rumors in regards of our Father attending this meeting. They are true." Stella paused as the angels gasped and turned to each other. "God will be sharing his big plan with all of you today."

         Castiel tried hard not to roll his eyes at Stella's annoyingly high pitched voice. He leaned into Dean slightly, remaining quiet.

         Dean spoke quietly as Stella continued, "Do you think Stella will give one of those emotional speeches today? Maybe there's a surprise award ceremony that she feels the need to preach for."

         Castiel shrugged, trying not to laugh, "She is very religious, Dean. She just wants Father to notice how devoted she is."

         "Yeah, Cas. But this is Heaven. All of us are religious. Stella is just... annoyingly religious."

         "That may be true." Cas chuckled. "Or maybe there will be-"

         "Shh," Dean said, turning his head.

         "It is my pleasure to introduce you, brothers and sisters, to our beloved father." Stella smiled wide and took a step back.

Dean leaned down to level with Castiel's ear and whispered, "Do you feel it?"

         Cas tilted his head to the side, feeling his stomach dropping. It wasn't too long before he could feel the ground tremble underneath his feet. A few angels in the pew across from him and Dean prayed and clenched their fists in preparation. Castiel's mind raced all over the place, the dread coming back onto him for no clear reason. He had no knowledge of what would happen today, but he was overwhelmed by his instincts.The rumbling grew as the seconds passed and Cas felt Dean's hand wrap around a chunk of his trench coat. He let his blue eyes wash over Dean's and wondered how Dean could sit there eagerly. How could he look so happy when something felt so wrong? Castiel's mind was so misty, but Dean's was a beacon on a bright summer's day. 

 

         The glass windows around them shone in magnificent amounts of light. It reflected and refracted off of every glass cross in the building, making small rainbows on the corners of the floor and the walls. Pastel blues and yellows mingled with one another on the windowsills, dripping into the rest of the room. The wooden floors seemed to creak with no shown weight present and the large chandelier above swayed like a boat riding the ocean.

         All of the sudden, a clap of thunder startled the Gathering House. A loud ringing entered into each angel's mind and weakened the pillars around the room. Cas fought the urge to hold his head in pain as the noise and vibrations intensified. He glanced over to see Dean's jaw tightened, his eyes closed, and head slightly bowed. Castiel began to mimic Dean's posture, searching for relief. There was never ending chatter in the clusters of angels. Someone had ran down the aisle to move closer to the front. A sonic boom arose into Castiel's mind and he saw Dean clamp his hands over his ears.

         The doors behind them flew open, presenting a grand silhouette. Castiel shifted his body towards the door, squinting his eyes for some sort of clarity when it finally clicked. Cas was staring at his father, God. His body felt warm and the noises stopped once God stepped foot into the Gathering House. All of the angels whispering made Cas dizzy, but he kept his eyes glued to God as he slowly made his way down to the front and sat in the seat by the podium. He was so tall. And his wings, oh his wings. They were a shiny silvery color that glistened perfectly against every light. A material almost seeming holographic.He had brown hair that curled against his face, and piercing gold eyes. Piercing gold eyes that happened to latch onto Cas's boring blue eyes. Cas's breath got choked down as he watched God smile towards him, then looking away.

         Dean shifted to try and see Father better and tightened his grip on Cas, causing the angel to jump. The whole room echoed with silence as the shaking diminished. The angels sat in awe, staring dumbfounded at their own Father. Brothers among brothers and sisters among sisters, all completely unaware of what their Father was like. Only stories had gone around about how he looked and acted, and God's children knew no better than to break into applause for their holy protector.

         God smiled graciously and bowed for his angels. Cas began to clap pathetically, for his was studying God's every movement. 

         "Now," God's voice boomed,"it is understandable that some of you gawk in my presence because we have never made contact, so I will allow all of you to collect yourselves."

          There was a long pause of silence.

         "Good," God smiled and studied his children's faces.

         "You had an announcement, Father?" Stella interfered, "I'm certain we are all anxious to hear what you have to say." There was a beaming smile on her face that almost seemed too happy.

_Kiss up._

"Yes, thank you... Uh," God looked at Stella, stroking his chin gently. It was quite obvious he didn't remember her name.

         Her smile faded. "Stella," she finished for him, rather upset. 

         "Right. Thank you my dear child." God stepped behind the podium and rested his hands on either side. "It has been brought to my attention that we've been having some issues with the way things are running on Earth. There are things that some of my delegates and I have arranged to happen on the planet, in order to provide peace and prosperity for both Heaven and life on Earth. The sacrifice of this cause, is that only one of you is worthy of making this plan a success. We have chosen one of you to take up the role of The Righteous Man. We are taking this gambit for the greater good, and we know that you all will agree."

         Castiel swallowed hard.

         "Righteous Man, huh? Looks like you've got this one." Dean whispered to Cas, a slight smile on his face.

         "It has been an arduous process to carefully pick this angel of mine. They have displayed grand courage, a headstrong attitude, loyalty, and compassion. I believe strongly that they will carry out this mission to the best of their ability, and balance humanity once again. Don't let my faultless manners confuse you, for this angel with endure everything a human can. Pain, sorrow, guilt, hunger, tiredness, and regret among many more. They will fight for the rest of their lives and contribute every molecule in their being to their service for us. They will sacrifice everything for Heaven. They will live, breathe, and die for Heaven and myself," God stated proudly, his eyes shimmering with blinding sin, according to Castiel.

         The Gathering House remained quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Castiel's leg bounced fast, trying to release all of the tense nerves in his body. His movement dragged on in the silence, over and over again. He was ready to leave. 

         "The angel worthy of being The Righteous Man is Dean."

         Father's voice replayed in Dean's head for a moment before he reacted. "Sorry?"

         "Dean, you are destined as The Righteous Man. Show some gratitude," God smiled and gave a small laugh. All of the angels clapped but Dean wasn't sure if they were clapping by means of congratulating him, or by thanking Father they weren't chosen.

         "Dean," Castiel's voice barely came out.

         "You will have no memory of your time in Heaven, those around you, or ever being an angel. You will have five minutes to say your farewells. I am proud to present this task to you, son. You will do great things for the world. Great things."

         Dean didn't remember anything else after that, he blocked it out. He just held Castiel in his arms, tear welling up in his eyes. Cas's hands clutched Dean's shirt tight, letting his fingertips brush up against Dean's wings.

         "Don't go. Don't leave me. You'll never remember me." Cas's voice came out in short choppy sobs.

         "Of course I'll remember you, Castiel. I could never forget you. I'll remember you, I promise. I have to go." Dean's eyes stung from holding them open for so long. He didn't want to blink. He was afraid if he blinked, the tears would fall with his sanity. He bit down hard on his bottom lip as his father rested a heavy hand on his shoulder.

         "It's time, Dean."

          Dean looked up to God and saw just how bright his eyes were. Golden like the sun. His smile was light, but meaningful. Then his eyes swept over to Cas who was crying thick tears, making him remember why he looked away. Dean bit back a cry and nodded. He stood up, not wanting to wait any longer for the pain to go away. God kept his hand on Dean's back and guided him up next to the podium. Dean felt weird as he looked at all of his brothers and sisters staring at him. His hands trembled and his breath was wavering unintentionally. Cas kept his eyes on Dean, no longer admiring his first time meeting with God. He didn't even look to his father. He was angry at him. He _hated_ him. What was fate really if it meant picking an angel and tossing him out of Heaven? How could he abandon one of his children like that? Was he insane? Fate was just a four letter word carried around by those too lazy or too selfish to help other people. What was this fate that sends Dean away from his family and home? It was nothing, because Castiel now knew fate didn't exist. God existed to give orders and ignore the consequences. God's idea of fate was him sitting back and watching the world suffer because he left everyone alone to deal with it. He leaves everyone to deal with his mess.

         Cas took in all he could, studying Dean's face one last time. His freckles, his nose, his cheek bones, his hair, and his eyes. He looked to Dean's lips to see him mouthing _'I will remember.'_

        Dean's wings were spread out wide, a beautiful pallet of black with light silver tips of each delicate feather. With a snap of his father's fingers, one by one each feather fell. They swung in the air back and forth, appearing endless as Dean yelped in pain. It was excruciating for him to lose all of his feathers, feeling as if limbs were being ripped off. He groaned in agony and Castiel wanted to scream in protest. Dean bit his wrist to keep from yelling. Castiel cried softly to himself for the next two minutes until all that was left was the base of Dean's wings and Castiel's sore eyes.

         The angels sat in silence, some shed a few tears, but none of them said a word. They observed Dean's body language: his arms hugging himself tightly as if he worried he might float away without the extra weight, his back hunched, and his jaw was clenched tightly, overall seeming very hostile. Dean was ordered to take his shirt off. After he did, God firmly put his hand on Dean's shoulder grabbed his left wing, pulling as hard as he could. Dean let out a painful scream. Blood was flowing out of his back like a rose waterfall. There were loud gasps coming from the crowd and all the angels wept. Castiel didn't realize how loud he was being until everyone else began praying for Dean, saying things like how they wish he travels through Earth safely and the pain will pass soon enough. Salty tears covered Dean's cheeks as he begged Father to stop. God ignored his request and proceeded to grab the other wing.

         "Please, Father! Ah!" Dean screeched, not caring how desperate and weak he sounded at the moment. Cas, along with everyone else, could hear loud crashes and sonic booms in their head. They all prayed harder for Dean, but the noises didn't stop. Dean couldn't control his angel communication due to the extensive pain he was feeling. His grasp was loose on his words and stuttering incoherently on his 'angel radio'.

         "Silence!" God demanded.

         Dean was still crying loudly, but the others monitored their volume. They all tried their best to block out Dean's calls and gut wrenching sounds through angel radio, as God spoke loudly. It was Enochian.

_This angel is worthy of taking the part that God has aspired him to do. Have mercy on his soul as he has his glorious wings removed and memory erased. From this moment forward,_

          God yanked Dean's right wing and Dean let out a continuous howl. Blood dripped from his right side onto the floor. Dean dropped to his knees, too weak to stand and continued to bawl.

          _Our beloved angel,_

         God lifted Dean up to stand and held his wrists behind his bleeding back. Dean's eyes were just barely opened, looking straight to Castiel with clear tears in his crystal blue eyes.

         "Dean!" Castiel screamed, but God's angel blade had already plunged into Dean's chest. Bright lights flashed in his body and in what seemed like slow motion to Castiel, his eyes faded to a dark brown and his knees gave out, only still upright because Father was holding him up. God put his hand on Dean's wounds and scooped some blood on his fingers, drawing a symbol on his forehead. He took his two clean fingers on his other hand and touched the center of he symbol very gingerly.

        _Is saved._

         There was an unbearable screech through angel radio, and a bright flash of gold. All of the angels shielded their eyes. Castiel lowered his head to his knees, arms over his head, and soon, the sound faded out. There was a solid ten seconds with no noise or movements. Cas's whole body shook uncontrollably as he raised his head back up towards his father. Dean was gone. God stood there, hands covered in his son's blood, angel blade on the ground, and Cas needed to scream.

         "How could you do that to your child? To Dean! Dean was one of your best angels, how could you get rid of him like that?"  
         "Oh sweet Castiel," God rested a hand on Castiel's shoulder and smiled sweetly, "I did it _because_ Dean is one of my best angels. He was the only one who could save Earth from destruction. I only did what I did out of love."  
         Castiel couldn't believe what he was hearing. A last tear fell from his eye. "You're a monster." He gritted his teeth and stormed out.

         Cas walked along the winding road to a large oak tree. He would go there with Dean often to talk. It mostly consisted of Dean reminding Castiel of how much he loved him and Castiel arguing that he loved him more. Now it was just Cas, and it seemed a hell of a lot emptier without his personal Heaven. The sky was a soft shade of grey and it was already sprinkling. He closed his eyes and prayed to Dean.

_Are you safe?_

         He waited for a response. He waited for a, "Yes, I'm alright" or an, "Of course I am. Can't wait to see you", but instead, he got deafening silence for the rest of the night.

         For the next few days, at random times, Dean's cries through angel radio would officiously intrude Cas's thoughts. He would worry, thinking Dean was hurt or trying to get a hold of him. Although, the more he payed attention to the patterns, the quicker he pieced together what Dean was saying at the meeting. _  
_

_Please! Someone save me! Cas. Save-Save. Don't let him. Hurts. I can't! Castiel-_

         The words haunted Castiel for weeks afterwards, but when they stopped, the slow realization that Dean wouldn't be coming back sank into Cas's bones and engraved a promise of suffering.

 


	2. Righteous? Yeah, right.

         Castiel felt like a blind man wandering through Heaven without Dean by his side. He was now a nomad. His home had fled. He often found himself flying over the east side forest in hopes of catching a glimpse of Dean's glorious wings. Castiel had taken them for granted. He should have took all the time he had to caress each dark feather, or telling Dean just how beautiful they were. He should have told Dean about how his wings would sneak into his thoughts randomly and fly above his head until they met up again. The cold blanket of grief Castiel now had on top of him impacted his attitude towards everyone. He became irritable and terse, feeling as if his brothers and sisters purposefully tried to bug him about the situation. Day after day, Castiel would receive words of comfort from his siblings. They would tell him to think about the good parts of Dean and to remember him at his happiest moments. Castiel thought the advice was bullshit. They didn't know Dean like he did. Cas had watched Dean pull back his curtains, revealing scars and bruises from what Dean described as a "beautifully tragic pain." Maybe that was what Castiel felt now. A beautifully tragic pain. There had to be more information to it. Castiel's sorrow didn't come with an instruction manual.

         "Why is it beautiful?" Castiel whispered to Dean, careful not to break the hushed moment of intimacy on their lips.

         "It's beautiful because when it strikes you, you want it gone. You say, "It hurts too bad. Make it stop." But it's just a matter of time before it wanes, leaving you with stories that build up the angel you are. If everything was happy and simple, we would receive no flowers to bloom after our thunderstorms."

          Cas could feel his eyes begin to sting. It was a painfully familiar sensation that he knew wouldn't leave him soon. He perched himself on a bench overlooking a hilly piece of land. It was a warm day, one Dean would have liked. A warm shade of red appeared on Castiel's closed eyes. He kept them that way for a moment, trying desperately not to think of Dean's eyes. Anything but his eyes. Castiel sighed heavily and looked out to the hills. Yellows and greens worked together to color the grass and weeds before him. Suddenly, Castiel could hear wings flapping from behind.

         A few footsteps approached him.

         "Lovely day, isn't it?"

         Castiel turned his head to see Balthazar looked at the hills.

         "Hello, Balthazar."

         Balthazar sat down next to Castiel and hummed. "Still thinking about lover boy?"

         Castiel didn't give a response, only playing with the belt of his coat and Balthazar gave a nod in agreement. 

         "I see. You do know that continuously thinking about him isn't going to reverse it though, right?"

         "Is it a bad thing to miss someone you love?" Castiel looked at his brother with a face of annoyance. 

         "It's a bad thing to invest all of your time on those thoughts. We are worried about you Castiel."

         "Who is we? Everyone keeps telling me they are sorry for what happened, but they only say it out of the discomfort from being around me. No one cares that I am hurting. If everyone was worried about me they would make more of an effort to take it up with Father. I am aware that my sulking makes the angels uncomfortable, but I cannot help it. If I could just forget about what happened to Dean, I would." Castiel took a deep breath after rushing everything out.

         "I'm not asking you to forget." Balthazar shook his head and squinted his eyes at the sun. "I'm asking you to push forward despite the challenges it delivers to you."

         Cas nodded and huffed, "Is that all?"

         "Yes, I suppose so."

         With that, Castiel took off into the sky, heading west. He took into consideration Balthazar's words, but managed to let Dean's image flood back into his mind. He wondered what Dean was doing on Earth. Did he have a nice family? A best friend? Were his green eyes still just as bright? Did he feel any type of pull towards an unknown being? Did he have dreams of Heaven or experience longing? Was he happy? Castiel just wanted him happy. He wanted to know every detail about Dean's mortality. He was probably the most holy thing on the planet. Innocent and cautious. What could he be doing at this hour?

 

 

         "Please! Harder!" The petite blonde squealed from underneath Dean's body.

         Dean smirked cockily and stopped his hips. "Sorry?"

         "Please, please. Don't stop. Not now."

         "So I should stop as soon as you're about to come then?" A few beads of sweat rolled down Dean's back as he leaned down to plant a kiss on the writhing beauty beneath him. 

         "No, Dean. Don't stop at all. Please, want you bad."

         Dean nodded and whispered, "Keep being a good girl for me then," continuing his motions from before. His broad shoulders glistened in the dim motel room lighting and little grunts escaped from his mouth. His heart beat faster as he steadied his quickest speed with the woman. With his muscles tightening, Dean pinned down her hips to let her come.

         "Fuck," he muttered under his breath while watching his partner's back arch and her legs tremble. He smiled softly and kissed down her neck roughly. 

         "Jesus Christ," the woman breathed out and pulled on Dean's hair, "You treat all your girls that well?"

         "Aw, what makes you think there are other girls? Was it my charming speech? Did it seem too rehearsed?"

         "It was actually the hickey on your collar bone. But I love the confidence." She pat Dean's chest with a smile and Dean began to redress himself. The girl scribbled down her number on the motel's complimentary notepad and handed it over to Dean once his pants were on. "Call me whenever you're back in town."

         Dean smiled and watched her leave with a wink. He laid down on his back and closed his eyes, hearing the rumble of the impala's engine outside. He sighed and watched the door, seeing Sam enter after a few moments. 

         "There's my favorite giant," Dean joked.

         "Cute. You don't have any girls stashed in the bathroom, do you?"

         Dean shook his head and sat up as Sam tossed him an old book. "What the hell is this?"

         "It has some information on loopholes for deals with demons. I figured it was worth a shot." Sam shrugged and didn't bother to wait for Dean to protest. "Look, I know that you think it's stupid, but if you could just do this for me? Just this once?"

         Dean rolled his eyes, opening to a page and biting his lip as he read. "Fine."

         Sam pulled a beer out of the fridge and handed it to his older brother. "So, how are you feeling?"

         Dean peeked up at Sam before shrugging. "Good."

         "Okay," Sam sat down on the bed opposite to Dean, "Honest answer?"

         "Sam, I'm fine. Okay? Quit trying to read me." Dean took a long drink and set the bottle on the bedside table.

         Sam sighed and sat for a minute, searching for the right words. "You're going to hell."

         "Tell me something I don't know." Dean stood up and grabbed his jacket. "I'm gonna go out for a few. You good?"

         Sam nodded with his eyes still to the floor, back hunched slightly. Dean nodded back and stepped out of the motel room, climbing into his car and driving off to a secluded field a mile down the road. He parked the car in front of a small lake and shut off the engine. His car door screamed for oil on its hinges as he opened it to get out. He cringed at a scratch he saw while circling his way to the hood of the car. With his fingertips admiring the smooth paint, he jumped up to sit and watch the water flow downstream. The air was stagnant to Dean's surprise. There was an absence of noise from the leaves above him which only gave Dean more silence to build off of. To build emotion and thoughts he didn't feel like dealing with. He had already started having the dreams and hallucinations of Hellhounds chasing after him, pits of fire he would tumble down, and it seemed he was stuck at the bottom of a cup full of screams. It was coming from all directions, louder than ever. It was painful. He would have nightmares every night, feeling every bit of torture and would wake up screaming. Sam was always next to him when he woke up, reminding Dean that it was all in his head. Reminding him that he would find a way to reverse the deal. Dean went through his final days in intolerable pain, but what was he supposed to do? Pray to God to save him? Have a cry-fest with his little brother about how scared he was to die and go Hell? No. He wasn't that type of person. He would hunt down and kill as many monsters as he could and be sure to smile and stand straight when Sam was watching. Sad fact however, Sam wasn't watching him now, and that was probably why Dean couldn't stop the tears running down his cheeks. It was because he was alone. He didn't want to be alone. Not on Earth or in Hell. He needed to be a part of this great big churning mess and help people get out of it. It was Dean's only job.

         "Please," Dean said through salty tears, having no idea who he was begging to. He bit on his tongue and laced his hands together tightly, trying to listen to the noises around him. His go-to distractions were limited. A long drive with loud music: He had listened to all of his cassettes by now. One night stand: Too many to count this past week. Drink until you pass out: It hasn't failed him yet.

         Dean slammed on the gas, heading east to a ghetto store he had seen on the way here. He swung the impala in a parking space and hopped out. The thick soles of his boots stomped down the evening pavement, letting Dean focus on a rhythmic pattern designed for distraction. His composition was rushed to get to the automatic entrance door, and he was just as quick to reach the alcohol in the back. Without paying any real attention to the labels, Dean snatched a bottle of gin and a bottle of vodka. He padded over to the snack section, looking to either side of him before shoving a pack of crackers down his pants, along with a chocolate bar for Sam. 

         There were only two registers open, seeming like everyone in town was in the check out lines. So Dean walked over to the doors and waited for someone to enter. As they did, he tossed the candy bar passed the security scanners. As it hit the ground, there were no alarms or disturbances to go off. Everyone nearby was paying attention to everything besides Dean, so he took the opportunity to walk out of the store with his goodies. Back in the impala he road, to the shitty motel room to find his brother asleep. Dean set the candy bar on Sam's vacant pillow and moved the covers up to his shoulders, a method he's used since Sam was three.

         It was best that Sam was out in la la land. Dean didn't have the energy to defend himself for drinking himself dumb again or listen to Sam scold him for not paying for the booze. It was better for him to drink in peace. The last time he was on the verge of passing out, he was violent and paranoid. Sam continuously pestered him, trying to irk his emotions out. Dean wasn't having it, so he drew his fist back and crashed it into the wall. The room stayed pretty quiet after that. 

         Dean's lips curled around the bottle of gin, closing his eyes as the stinging liquor swished down his throat. He sat on the floor with his back against the bed, legs spread out in front of him and hazily watching the television on low volume. The dirty carpet he sat on felt like it was caving beneath him, despite being hard concrete underneath. Dean could feel his eyes get heavier and dry as he gulped down more of the drink. The toxic solution gave Dean's immune system a run for its money. He let out a soft chuckle at the show he was watching, his throat horribly scratchy. Minutes shifted into hours and the tremble of the righteous man's wrist only grew worse. This was his least favorite stage: the arrival. His body shook uncontrollably against the squeaky bed frame. He tried with all of his strength not to wake his brother with his heavy breaths and sniffing. This visions seemed to grow more intense, as the usually did at this hour, and Dean covered his ears to block out the barking from outside. 

         He downed the last of the drink, passing out soon after. Little did he know Sam had watched the result of his drinking and hoisted him up into bed like he did most nights. Dean would always wake up the next morning feeling accomplished that he made it to bed, even though it was never because of him. Sam was used to it, though. He knew the whole one way ticket to Hell was freaking Dean out, but they don't talk about those things. They never do.

         


End file.
